Whispering in the trails of unhallowed things

When the elk was dead, its body slumped to the ground – the God standing above it, flexing his claws into the warm flesh. Only then did the forest go silent. Setekh watched with satisfaction as the woman’s pink eyes met his, their depths reflecting her caution. Her attempt at politeness was amusing to him, a thin veneer over the raw fear he could nearly feel emanating from her. Her words hung in the air, and he could taste the adrenaline in her voice, a sweet addition to the thrill of the hunt still coursing through his veins.

“Thank you?” The Ivory God echoed, his voice a low, dangerous purr that resonated through the forest. “Such needless gratitude for a pleasure on my part.” Feel her fear, taste her dread. Her heartbeat quickens, like a bird in a snare. She is yours to play with, to ensnare!

His eyes never left hers as she began to back away. He could see the tension in her every movement, the readiness to flee at the slightest provocation. Oh, this game. He relished this dance of predator and prey she so easily slipped into playing. He stepped forward slowly, deliberately, his posture relaxed yet menacing. She wanted to face him with fear, but all she succeeded in doing was awakening his instinctual prey drive. He allowed the silence to stretch, the weight of his gaze heavy upon her. Each step she took backward, he mirrored with one forward, maintaining the tension between them. “So quick to leave?” He continued, his tone mocking. “I do not desire the elk.” He called after her, watching her hastily flee. Her mind races, her body trembles. Let her think she has a chance. The chase is sweeter when hope is crushed!


“Run, if you must,” He said softly, a sinister smile curling his lips. “But if I find you, there is no escaping me.” With that, he stopped, giving her a moment of false hope, a fleeting chance to believe she could slip away. He savored the anticipation, the delicious thrill of the inevitable chase. He watched her, his molten eyes glinting with predatory hunger, and when she left his line of sight, he would bound forward almost playfully, pursuing the pink-eyed woman through the brush. He imagines finding her, his spine shuddering at the thought of her slender form quaking in fear before him. Pink eyes dilated in horror.